Page 95 of When Hearts Surrender

My heart twists as he meets my stare head on, unflinching, and I know…

This can’t be enough.

Chapter 34

The silent auction iswrapping up as I excuse myself from the table and head back to my room to use the bathroom and freshen up my makeup. The wistful strains of the violin accompanied by the soulful notes of the cello fade into silence as I make my way up the grand staircase. I hear Silas’s faint barking in one of the guest rooms where a pet sitter is looking after him.

The ferocious storm continues to batter the estate, the windows shaking from the onslaught as the icy tendrils of the elements seep in through the gaps under the windowsills. Shivering, I quicken my steps to the bedroom.

I complete my business in the bathroom and attempt to fix my elegant updo, which has dislodged as I moved about the ballroom socializing with guests, taking photos for the press, and performing other duties as the mistress of the house.

Sighing, I stare at my hair in the mirror, realizing there’s no way I can fix this quickly. I pull out the pins and let the silky black waves fall over my shoulders.

This will have to do.

My eyes snag on the locket lying over my heart. The necklace has me transfixed ever since I laid eyes on it and I usually wear it every day. I wish Maxwell could put it on me himself. It’d be more meaningful that way, having the man who occupies your heart put on a piece of jewelry that symbolizes eternal love.

I open the locket, admire the silhouette of a woman’s face, and read the elegant inscription again:

To E,

Upon you, my dearest, my love rests for eternity and beyond, for anything less would be insufferable.

Your servant,

S.

A twinge of melancholy snakes its way inside my chest and I close the locket, wishing it would imbue me with the same type of love in the inscription.

Ardent. Everlasting. Eternal.

Then I think of him, Maxwell, his brooding eyes, a soul I can spend a lifetime exploring and not reach the bottom of its depths.

And I wish…

I swallow the lump in my throat.

I wish he’d feel a fraction of what the giver of the locket felt for the woman he calls his dearest.

Blowing out a breath, I dispel my gloomy thoughts and leave my room to go back to the ballroom. A sudden chill sifts through the air when I reach the staircase, and I take two steps at a time—cardio will warm up the body. As I make a turn to the ballroom, a hand reaches out and grabs my arm tightly.

“What on earth?” I turn toward the person whohas pulled me to a stop.

Ugh. My asshole boss. Darn it. I forgot my parents allocated a spot to him at the McKenzie Atelier table.

My stomach turns and I try to shake my arm free. “Gordon, let go of me right now.”

He laughs, a cruel mocking sound drawing the attention of a few ball goers who are lingering outside the ballroom. He lets go of me. “I see being married to an Anderson has gone to your head.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “What do you want?” He reeks of alcohol.

He tsks. “Just wanted to see how the design collection is going. Is it going to be as pathetic as the one you showed me last time?” I’m still finishing up my final revised designs and haven’t submitted them yet.

“If you give someone shit to work with, they can only come up with more shit, Gordon.” I give myself an inner high five for not flinching when I curse, because if there’s anyone who deserves curse words, it’s the man in front of me.

“Why don’t you run to mommy and daddy dearest and tell them you give up before you run the company into the ground?”

“Never.”

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